


Safe

by RaeDMagdon



Series: Rybee [3]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/F, Fingering, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Oral, Oral Sex, Trans Character, Vanilla, post-Meridian, reassurance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 09:52:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10988490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeDMagdon/pseuds/RaeDMagdon
Summary: Ryder is safe.That’s the only thought that burns in Peebee’s brain as the two of them sit in the Tempest medbay together, holding hands while Lexi scans them up and down. The good doctor had tried to separate them for their post-combat exams, but they had refused to be parted.Ryder is safe.





	Safe

**Author's Note:**

> The chronicles of Lin Ryder and Peebee continue!
> 
> Lin is: An engineer, logical/professional, Chinese, Default face #4, trans
> 
> The art at the bottom is by @swamp-jello so please follow on tumblr! And of course you can follow me too @raedmagdon.

Ryder is safe.

That’s the only thought that burns in Peebee’s brain as the two of them sit in the Tempest medbay together, holding hands while Lexi scans them up and down. The good doctor had tried to separate them for their post-combat exams, but they had refused to be parted.

Ryder is safe.

Peebee reminds herself of that fact with each passing moment by watching Ryder breathe. As Ryder’s chest moves beneath her thin shirt, rising and falling, Peebee feels her own chest clench with emotion. Her heart rate still hasn’t calmed down since the last shot was fired.

Ryder is safe. And alive. And whole.

There hadn’t been time to realize how afraid she was of losing Ryder before Meridian—a few frantic hours of fear and doubt, followed by a harrowing fight with the Archon. But Ryder had done it. Ryder had come out on top. There is nothing left to be afraid of, and yet…

Peebee has never been the religious type. She doesn’t believe in the Goddess or siari, and the existence of the Jardaan have only raised more questions about the origin of life, but she knows one thing for certain: Ryder’s life is priceless, to the whole Andromeda Galaxy, but especially to her.

“Well, the two of you seem fine,” Lexi says, turning off her Omnitool and shaking her head in bewilderment. “I don’t know how you came out of Meridian without a scratch, considering what you’ve been through— _especially_ you, Ryder.”

Ryder, ever logical, merely nods. “I told you I’d be careful, Lexi.”

Lexi snorts. “Mm. ‘Careful’, she says, before running off to save the world. Later, Ryder, the two of us are going to have a very long talk.”

Peebee gives Lexi a grateful smile. She still isn’t the doctor’s biggest fan, but they agree on one thing: keeping Ryder healthy is important. As long as Lexi continues caring for Ryder, Peebee will be on her side one hundred percent.

“Don’t worry, Doc,” she says. “I’m all for adventure, but I’ll try and keep Ryder out of the ones with the potential to get her killed.”

Lexi nods in approval. “Thank you, Peebee. Now, I know you hate it in here, so… you’re free to go. Yes, with Ryder,” she adds before Peebee can ask. “Get out of here, the two of you. I need to check on Drack next.”

Still holding Ryder’s hand, Peebee hops off the medbay cot, standing between Ryder’s legs. “Cabin?” she asks hopefully.

Ryder beams—her smiles are rare, but always genuine, and to Peebee, that makes them all the more precious. There is nothing better than seeing Ryder’s professional attitude melt away to reveal the tenderness underneath. “Okay, Peanut Butter. Let’s go.”

“You call her Peanut Butter?” Lexi asks, eyes widening in surprise.

Peebee sticks out her tongue. “Yeah, so?”

Lexi holds up both hands in a peace offering. “Nothing, nothing.”

“Thanks, Lexi,” Ryder says, trying to defuse the situation. “For keeping me and the rest of the crew patched up.”

“You’re welcome, Ryder. No thanks needed. It’s not only my job, but a privilege.”

Ryder leaves the cot, squeezing Peebee’s hand. They exit the medbay together, passing Drack on the way in. He only lets out a low ‘heh’ as he sees their laced fingers, but Peebee knows him well enough to read the grunt as approval.

“You were pretty polite to Lexi back there,” Ryder says as they head down the hall toward her cabin. “You know, all things considered.”

“Yeah, well… she makes sure you stay alive. And she’s great at her job, so I have an interest in staying on her good side, y’know?”

The cabin doors whoosh open, and both of them walk inside.

“Peebee…”

Peebee turns to see a look of worry on Ryder’s face. It’s a face that, despite Ryder’s attempts at professionalism, never fails to show her true feelings underneath. Or maybe Peebee’s just gotten really good at reading her expressions.

“I’m fine, Ryder,” Peebee says, even though some twisted-up part of her isn’t—not yet.

But Ryder seems to know she’s lying. She steps closer, letting go of Peebee’s hands and hugging her tight instead.

Peebee sighs, melting into Ryder’s embrace. She has to admit, it feels _good_ to hold her lover this way. Reassuring. She can feel the steady thud of Ryder’s heartbeat where their chests touch, as well as Ryder’s ribcage expanding in her arms with each inhale. Somehow, those physical signs do more to comfort her than any verbal promises or reassurances.

“You said you’d come back,” Peebee mutters, winding her arms around Ryder’s waist. “And you did. But it still feels like this could all slip away at any moment. Like you could slip away. Stupid, huh?”

“It’s _not_ stupid,” Ryder insists, holding Peebee’s eyes with her dark brown ones.

If there’s one thing Peebee loves most about Ryder—more than her golden skin, more than the beauty mark next to her broad button nose, more than her high, graceful cheekbones, it’s her eyes. They’re always so warm, so full of love, a love Peebee hadn’t even believed in before they’d met.

A love she had nearly lost.

That thought is unbearable. Ryder is the only person who has ever touched her soul, the only person who has ever been a part of her. Imagining how easily she could have been taken… how easily everything could have fallen apart…

Peebee feels the sudden urge to meld. She wants to retreat with Ryder to their special place, to the quiet universe of soft white stars and purple clouds. It’s a place where only the two of them exist and even death can’t follow.

“Ryder, I…” Peebee’s tongue, usually so quick and clever, feels thick and clumsy in her mouth. Expressing such deep feelings outside of a recording has never been her strong suit. After a deep breath, she continues. “I need you to bring me back to here and now, okay. I keep going to this other place, a place where you didn’t make it. I need you to use those strings you’ve got hooked in me to pull me back home.”

The explanation sounds like a jumbled mess to Peebee’s ears, but to her utter relief, Ryder understands. “It’s okay,” Ryder says, echoing the same reassurances she’d whispered during their first meld. “I’ve got you, Peebee.” She cups Peebee’s cheek and leans in, bringing their lips together in a gentle kiss.

Tears well in Peebee’s eyes. Maybe it’s because she knows that this kiss, and all the kisses after, hadn’t been guaranteed. She kisses Ryder back with everything she has, everything she is, sliding her tongue along the seam of Ryder’s lips and seeking entrance to her mouth.

Ryder opens for her willingly. Still kissing, the two of them stumble to the bed together, their movements urgent, but it’s not mere lust that drives them. The brush of Ryder’s fingertips over the small of her back has coaxed a warm glow to life between Peebee’s legs, but arousal isn’t the first thing on her mind. She needs to meld, to join Ryder’s soul to hers, to make sure it, like the rest of Ryder, is okay.

The backs of Peebee’s legs hit the edge of the mattress first. She doesn’t fall down right away, too desperate is she to re-learn the taste of Ryder’s mouth, too eager is she to sift her fingers through the short black hairs at the back of Ryder’s neck. Instead, she reverses their positions, tipping Ryder back onto the bed and crawling over her.

Every item of clothing Ryder is wearing is an obstacle. Peebee undoes buttons and tugs at hems, sometimes too roughly when she can’t bare Ryder’s skin fast enough. There’s the familiar scar on Ryder’s abdomen, a burn from a Nullifier—and there’s a new bruise beneath her rib cage.

A tear runs from the corner of Peebee’s eye as she sees it, but she blinks it away, too stubborn to let it get the best of her. It doesn’t matter, because Ryder is alive. The proof is right in front of her.

Peebee finds more proof with her hands and lips, pulling up Ryder’s undershirt, kissing along her stomach. Ryder’s skin tastes the same—a hint of sweat, but mostly just warm. Ryder is always so, so warm.

(Warm. Alive. More proof.)

They trade more deep kisses, and Peebee shudders as one of Ryder’s knees lifts up to press between her legs. A jolt shoots straight through her azure, but she ignores it, trying to regain focus. This isn’t about getting off. It’s about Ryder. About making sure she’s okay. About making sure Ryder knows…

“I love you,” Peebee tries to say, but what comes out instead is, “Damn it, Ryder, I almost lost you.” Her voice breaks, and this time, she can’t stop the tears from coming.

“I know,” Ryder says, staring up at her with a look of sympathy. “Trust me. I know how you feel. I was so afraid I wouldn’t come back to you, no matter what I promised… or that you wouldn’t be there waiting for me.”

Peebee sniffs, laughing through a pained smile. “So, what you’re saying is we’re both a mess?”

“Yes,” Ryder chuckles. “We’re both a mess.”

Peebee strips off her jacket, watching as Ryder does the same with her compression shirt. Without discussing it, the two of them embrace once their torsos are bare, enjoying their combined body heat, the softness of sharing a skin.

(She can feel Ryder’s heart again, thumping steadily beneath her.)

“Wanna be a mess together?” she mutters against Ryder’s collarbone.

Ryder’s hand strokes down the middle of her back, massaging tense muscles on the way. “I’d love to.”

Their pants come off next, ending up somewhere on the floor by the bed. As soon as they’re out of the way, Peebee settles between Ryder’s legs, kissing down the slope of her chest toward her breasts. Peebee knows how much Ryder appreciates having them touched, admired, and she does her best to oblige, teasing the small brown peaks to stiff points.

When Ryder pushes down on her crest, Peebee scoots lower, taking one of them in her mouth. The soft sigh Ryder makes as she circles the hardened tip with her tongue is more proof—a sign that the Archon hasn’t won, that the two of them are still together and stronger than ever.

Peebee drinks in every noise Ryder makes like a woman parched. Each sound brings a wave of sweet relief with it, and she kisses across to Ryder’s other breast, desperate for more. Meanwhile, one of Ryder’s knees curls around her hip, a heel digging into the back of her thigh. “Peebee…”

Hearing her name from Ryder’s lips is even more reassuring. Peebee slides one of her hands down Ryder’s stomach, stroking the bunched muscles there, trying to get them to relax even as Ryder starts rocking up into her. She knows Ryder is seeking contact between her legs, but Peebee tries to extend the moment a little longer, tracing a feathery line between Ryder’s hipbones.

Ryder gasps, tensing even further. She grips the swell of Peebee’s ass, squeezing firmly, and Peebee groans as she feels herself slip against Ryder’s thigh. She’s already wet. Both of them are wet, she realizes, as her fingers glide down through the coarse patch of curls above Ryder’s lips. The folds beneath are soft, silky, and absolutely soaked.

(For her. All this is for her.)

Peebee doesn’t waste time. She teases the swollen bud of Ryder’s clit, stroking the shaft through its hood, dipping down to gather enough wetness to make her circles slippery and smooth. Ryder’s gasps turn to groans. “Yes, please, don’t stop—”

She doesn’t want to stop. Not now. Not ever.

Peebee kisses down Ryder’s abdomen, inhaling deeply. Ryder’s scent is rising, thick and sweet, and she can already taste it on her tongue. She ducks beneath Ryder’s knees, scattering kisses along both her thighs as she brings her mouth up to join her fingers.

Ryder is dripping by the time she gets there. Peebee swipes her tongue flat between Ryder’s folds, gathering as much wetness as she can, but even that isn’t enough. Ryder’s thighs twitch, and more slickness runs out of her, coating Peebee’s chin.

Peebee doesn’t mind the mess. She is _all about_ mess if it means Ryder is here, with her, in this moment.

(If it means Ryder is alive…)

She sucks Ryder’s clit into her mouth, grazing the root with her teeth as she pushes one finger past Ryder’s entrance. Ryder cries out, arching from the bed. Her muscles tense and relax, tense and relax, almost following a rhythm. Peebee curls forward, searching for the swollen spot on Ryder’s front wall. When she hits it, Ryder twitches against her tongue.

“Peebee, _yes…”_

Peebee isn’t sure which she adores more: that ‘yes’, or her name. But it doesn’t matter, because Ryder is muttering and rocking and grasping the back of her head, seeking more, more, more—always more. Even flat on her back, she manages to find some leverage, and Peebee’s lungs burn from lack of air.

It doesn’t matter. Breathing is overrated. She licks and sucks and swirls, tasting every bit of Ryder she can reach. Soon, she’s driving into Ryder frantically with two fingers while Ryder grinds against her mouth. It’s quicker and rougher than Peebee had meant for it to be, but somehow, it feels right. The urgency building within her is bubbling over, a volcano about to erupt.

“Gonna—gonna come,” Ryder gasps, nails grazing Peebee’s scalp. “Don’t stop, just… don’t…”

The last thing Peebee wants to do is stop.

She sucks Ryder’s clit as deep into her mouth as she can and swipes her tongue against it once, twice—

Ryder stiffens and screams, body arching, fingers grasping. Every inch of her trembles, and Peebee soaks it all in. Ryder is clamping impossibly tight around her fingers, pulsing with heat, with pleasure…

(With life. Ryder isn’t just alive, but _living_.)

Despite the ache in her jaw and the burn in her wrist, Peebee keeps sucking and thrusting through Ryder’s contractions, doing her best to keep up the pace. Ryder is grasping her so intensely, bucking so erratically, that it’s hard to keep up, but so worth it—as Ryder floods her mouth, Peebee can focus on nothing but her taste.

When the river finally runs dry and Ryder’s muscles stop fluttering, Peebee lifts her head at last. She’s only able to because Ryder’s fingers have gone slack against the back of her neck. She opens her mouth, a smug comment hovering on her lips, but what comes out instead is: “Thanks.”

Ryder sits up without help, using the impressive muscles in her core. “You’re the one thanking me?”

“Yeah, well…”

(How is she supposed to tell Ryder that this was the proof she’d needed? The proof that everything is going to be okay now?)

Suddenly, Peebee is flat on her back, staring up into Ryder’s eyes. Sometimes she forgets just how strong Ryder is, even without her armor.

“Hey. Relax. It’s just the two of us here, okay?”

Peebee takes a deep breath. “Okay…”

One of Ryder’s hands runs up along her thigh, a touch that is both tender and full of purpose. Peebee almost wishes it was firmer. Part of her wants Ryder to grasp her thighs and yank them open, to fuck her hard and deep, to make it burn so she won’t float away from this—from reality.

But Ryder is gentle, deliberate, frustratingly soft. Peebee begins shaking as Ryder’s fingers cup between her legs, stroking the lips of her azure, not really centering where she needs them. “Peebee. I’m here. That’s not going to change.”

(But what if it does?)

“But what if it does? Maybe not this time, but…”

Ryder dips down to give her a closed-mouth kiss. “We just kicked the Archon’s ass and saved everyone. _We_ did that. Together, the two of us can do anything.”

“It was mostly Drack,” Peebee says. “We were just along for the ride.”

Ryder nips at her lower lip, growling low. “Don’t talk about Drack when I’m about to make love to you.”

Make love. Sometimes those two words still make Peebee squirm with embarrassment. But not this time. This time, they feel exactly right. She spreads her legs wider and Ryder takes that as an invitation, stroking from the bottom of her slit up toward the sensitive ridge of her clit.

Peebee whimpers when Ryder brushes it. She can’t help it. Making Ryder come has left her sensitive, needy. She tilts her pelvis, trying to find more contact, but Ryder doesn’t let her. She continues her maddeningly slow tease.

“Peebee…”

Peebee blinks to clear her hazy vision. Ryder’s face is starting to swim in front of her. “Mm?”

“Meld with me. Please?”

She wants to. Fuck everything, she wants to. It’s _all_ she’s wanted since they arrived back on the Tempest.

Peebee doesn’t even bother with an ‘embrace eternity’. She just closes her eyes, and when they open again, the world goes black.

A heartbeat later, there is an explosion of color, a rush of stars. Logically, Peebee knows it’s just neurons firing, two nervous systems attuning to each other, but it feels like so much more. It’s like standing on the bridge of the Tempest, watching the galaxy streak by at impossible speeds.

Suddenly, everything stops.

It is quiet.

She and Ryder are in their place, the safe place where nothing can hurt them, where they are the only two beings who exist in the galaxy. Ryder smiles at her. Peebee smiles back.

“Welcome home.”

“You are my home.”

Ryder’s fingers slip inside her, both in the meld and in reality, and Peebee takes Ryder’s lips in a deep kiss. She needs Ryder’s lips, Ryder’s fingers, Ryder’s very soul to sustain her.

As Ryder moves inside of her, all of Peebee’s fears and doubts melt away. This is real. She and Ryder are real, their victory is real, and their love is real, and _nothing_ can possibly take it away. Not now, not ever. Ryder has come back from the dead three times, come back to _her,_ and will keep coming back until the stars burn out.

This time, she doesn’t feel the need to rush. With her heart joined to Ryder’s, there’s no reason to. She is able to relax, to enjoy, to float as Ryder kisses her and strokes within her. But even though she is floating, she is firmly tethered too. She is tied to something solid and real, something that can’t be torn away.

“I love you,” Ryder whispers into her lips as she presses her thumb over Peebee’s clit.

Peebee wraps her leg around Ryder’s waist, drawing their bodies even closer. “Love you too. You crazy idiot hero. _My_ crazy idiot hero.”

When she comes at last, after what feels like an eternity, Peebee feels safe enough to close her eyes. She knows Ryder is there without sight, without sound, even without touch. She can simply feel Ryder’s presence, like it’s a part of her. Like Ryder is a part of her. She tilts her head back, exhaling toward the stars as she reaches her peak.

It’s Ryder’s warm lips on her neck that start the shudders. They barely graze her pulse point, and yet Peebee trembles to pieces, clutching at Ryder’s fingers and spilling into her cupped hand. Ryder’s palm presses against her, holding her throbbing heartbeat as well as every ounce of her pleasure.

Peebee cries out, but once more, her words have deserted her. It’s okay, though, because she doesn’t need them. She already has what she needs.

(Ryder. Just Ryder.)

She comes until she is covered in a fine sheen of sweat and too exhausted to shake anymore. Ryder stops thrusting, but doesn’t pull out, resting inside her as she shivers through her aftershocks. Peebee kisses her, soft little kisses that almost tickle, and the two of them rest their foreheads together, sharing breath.

“Ryder?”

“Mm?”

“Thanks. For being you. For being here. With me.”

Ryder’s other hand cups her cheek. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Even as the meld melts around them, revealing Ryder’s cabin again, Peebee doesn’t feel alone. Some part of Ryder has remained behind within her, nestled deep in her chest where she can keep it safe. She isn’t afraid anymore. How can she be, when Ryder is staring down at her with such love?

She laughs, and Ryder laughs too, pulling the covers over their cooling bodies.

“We just saved the whole galaxy, didn’t we, Ryder?”

“Yes we did, Peanut Butter.”

“It really happened.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Like, really happened… we almost died, but we didn’t. And now we’re here.”

Ryder’s thumb runs just beneath her cheekbone. “And now we’re here.”

Peebee cups Ryder’s face too, stroking the corner of her jaw. “So… can we do that again? Because I think we should keep celebrating.”

Ryder bends down, but instead of kissing, she runs her tongue along the line of Peebee’s jaw, making her hiss and clench all over again. “More celebrating? I can get behind that. I think the two of us have earned it.”


End file.
